The Widow Vibe - And the Question of Time

2 minute read time.

It was eighteen weeks today. 

 

And it is nearly a year since I started the blog on this site. I don’t know how many of my original readers are still here … ‘Stuff’, as they say, ‘happens’.  And there is some ‘stuff’ that none of us want to think about happening because it is just too hard …

 

I want to know where some of you have gone, how you are, but dare not ask. 

 

So, it was eighteen weeks today. 

 

The world has been hurrying on, but I still feel that time has stopped for me.  The wailing, alien creature, my grief, is quieter – still there, still ready to take me by surprise and put all reason to rest, but I am beginning to function again.  When someone complains of a sore knee, or an aching hip, I am able to look reasonably sympathetic and say the right things, but all the time with the knowledge that they have no idea about suffering at all.   

 

Oh yes, I am beginning to function again – after a fashion - because that is what ‘the world’ expects me to do. 

 

We don’t ‘do’ grief as a society, do we?  That is why grief is treated like a mental illness – shuffled off to the ‘bereavement’ counselors (in the past, we might have gone to our priests – perhaps some of us still do).  No – society wants us to keep ‘busy’ because us grieving ones, and those who are terminally ill, are awkward reminders about love and loss and illness and death; reminders too that no amount of keeping fit in the gym, no amount of going out there and getting and spending, or making our ‘mark’ on the world in other ways, will prevent the inevitable.  (People keep on suggesting that I take up various ‘hobbies’ – do they think taking up knitting will fill the yawning gap in my life?)

 

Bah (or fill in with the expletive of your choice) to the shallow ‘world,’ I say!  I am older and, I hope, wiser than I was a year ago when I first found myself here.  You all know one of the lessons I have learned – live for the moment, and love. 

 

But the relentless demands of time have been felt and I have been busy.  The formal complaint has gone in and I sincerely hope that I will have a little part to play in raising awareness about oesophageal cancer, about the abysmal survival rates, and the very patchy treatment in the UK.  Perhaps.  However, I think that three MPs have read the letter now … We will see, in time.

 

Finally, for those very faithful readers: Cold Comfort Cottage is just about wind and weather proof for the winter; the two remaining hounds are going to have to adjust to a new regime when their mistress returns to work; lawyers are going to be involved about the plumbing situation and the Ancient Aga is still being difficult. 

 

 

 

Best wishes to you all.

 

xx

Anonymous
  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    this maybe cold comfort to you but i was left a widower at the age of 29 4 years after i was wed to a most glorious girl, altho she did not die of cancer it was other things lets say. but i had all the bereavement people come round offering advice, what i asked the counsellor next was a bit abrupt. i asked her if she had had anyone close to here pass away? she said she hadn't. so my reply was abrupt again "How could she sit there and tell me how to deal with a situation she hadn't dealt with herself"

    a bit abrupt but then thats me, to the point, so the pity givers arnt necvessarily the best people to deal with bereavement are in my mind the people who hjave had it happen to them. they did not help me one little bit. i turned to my family who were great.. you never get over the death of a loved one my wife at 29 my sister when i was 45 and last year my father when i was 48 and if this cancer thing dont go away then its me at a ripe old age of ??. So the best help io can give you is to add me as a friend and we can talk it over if you want to that is

    kind regards

    Alan (biggles13) xx

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Morning Buzzie. Still here down in the Midlands. Just keeping warm with a bowl of left over Chicken Tikka Massala & home made bread while the pooch pleads to be taken for a walk (jog actually as the midriff needs toning up !).

    You show 2 fingers (or one) to the world & you do what you want- to hell with expectations.

    Trade your Aga for a smoke blowing Rayburn !

    Take care & you all keep warm up there, Jewels XX

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Buzzie.

    Good to hear your wise words again.  

    Alan you are so right that only those who have experienced the pain of terminal illness and loss can possibly   understand our feelings.

    Even though G is still with me I have grieved so much over the past two years for the man he was and marriage we have already lost.

    Now the cancer is in both lungs, the future is looking very bleak.  G has wasted away again to skin and bone, and become borderline anaemic, he is increasingly breathless, and can hardly get upstairs now.   A stair lift is on order.

    He was taken into hospital as a day case on Thursday for a blood transfusion.  Somehow, as every delay known to the NHS kicked in, the day became an overnight stay.

    Yesterday a blood test showed his sodium levels are down, he will be in for several more days.

    A frantic surf of the internet last night confirmed my worse fears.  This is serious. Suggested treatments are restricting fluid intake and waiting for the level to rise naturally.  Not much, hope of that on an NHS diet, or intravenous infusion of sodium chloride.   Currently his fluid intake is restricted to one litre a day.  So, why have they given him a two-litre jug full of water?  G is capable of monitoring his intake, but many patients might not be, especially as one of the indicators of low sodium is confusion!

    More internet surfing is required to find some sodium rich food I can take to him this afternoon.

    We always knew G could win some of the battles, but from diagnosis on, the war was already lost.  I fear he is losing the strength to fight on.  All I can do now is pray he will come back to the comfort of his own surroundings for a while more.

  • Hello Buzzie,

    You are so right, Thank you for the very wise words. I am only 7 weeks down the road of sheer misery, but already I have people advising me of my future and what I should do with it..

    Kay

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Hello buzzie

    15weeks on myself today and your words are so true. We make people so uncomfortable. And people even some relatives don't seem to understand why you haven't picked up your old life and started again yet! One day they will know and understand but not for some time yet so that does not help them understand me now.

    Somehow we have to keep going but our life priorities have changed and so have we.

    Take care of yourself

    t